


Catching Up

by SomewhatByronically



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: I have been forcefully seduced into this ship and I can't even believe it, I wanted sleepy blowjobs so I made sleepy blowjobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-10 21:33:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15300495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomewhatByronically/pseuds/SomewhatByronically
Summary: In which Witchers don't have gag reflexes.





	Catching Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [astolat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astolat/gifts), [softestpunk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/softestpunk/gifts).



> I have been dragged into this ship and held hostage by all the wonderful fic everyone has written. Here's my contribution to this mess. This fic is set...... very ambiguously. I didn't do my research.

Geralt rode into the Imperial stables three days later than expected. The first light of day was warming the night sky before he could manage to tuck himself into the palace. Despite his heavy limbs and bone-deep exhaustion, he managed to slog through a bath. Emhyr may love him, but certainly not the bits of drowner and nekker that manage to get stuck in his hair. With a start, Geralt realized that he couldn't remember cleaning and oiling his swords. When he checked though, they were quite thoroughly cared for, shrugging off his lack of memory for his tiredness. Satisfied with the work he doesn't remember, he crawls naked into bed, wrapping an arm around Emhyr's chest. He fell asleep immediately to the feeling of Emhyr's thumb tracing circles into the back of his hand.

When Geralt awoke, grogginess hung heavy in his mind like a cloud. He blinked slowly, eyelids heavy, and couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face. With his nose still buried in the crook of Emhyr's neck, he couldn't make room for any thoughts other than those of Emhyr. He could feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest and could hear him breathing gently through his mouth. Emhyr only did that when he was dead-tired, so he must have had a late night as well. Geralt turned his attention back to his nose as he tried to drown himself in Emhyr's scent. It was his favorite thing these days, a simple pleasure really. Emhyr fresh out of the bath smelling of his soaps, Emhyr with ink stains on his hands smelling of sheet after sheet of parchment, Emhyr after training drenched in sweat and the musk of exertion, Emhyr after sex stinking of Geralt and his own satisfaction. A shiver of possessiveness struck him as he realized he had been gone too long to smell himself on Emhyr--or the sheets. He could tell, though, that the sheets hadn't been changed since he left. He burrowed his head in closer and smiled, he wouldn't have to embarrass Emhyr into admitting that he had missed him.

Without thinking, Geralt pushed the neckline of the loose tunic Emhyr wore to bed out of the way. He began to press featherlight kisses to the back of Emhyr's neck and soon he felt him awake in his arms. It was only a moment, and a bit of shuffling, before eyes as tired as his own were staring back at him. A challenging, sleepy, smirk invited him in further and Geralt could never say no. He dipped forward, capturing the Emperor's lips with his own and the moment seemed to freeze. One hand drifting over Emhyr's thighs and up his ribs, and the other tangled in his hair. Geralt pulled Emhyr's mouth to angle with his just so and he sighed. At that, he felt Emhyr smile into their kiss and couldn't help the fresh burst of affection in his chest. He then pulled Emhyr's head aside to expose his neck and he mouthed his way down. He caught skin between teeth and sucked gently. He made a point to avoid leaving any marks because he wasn't in the mood to draw Meredid's ire today. Emhyr's gentle gasps were reward enough and there was plenty of skin that would hide beneath the high-collared robes of office.

Geralt continued to mouth over the cloth of the tunic Emhyr was wearing. He had never been able to convince Emhyr to sleep naked despite the many advantages it gave. But he rucked it up as he went, finally meeting skin again at the edge of Emhyr's ribs. Geralt found it impossible to keep any fat on--that famed witcher metabolism always burning through every drop of energy but the Emperor spent most of his days behind a desk. He only trained when necessary and had access to as much rich food as he pleased. Emhyr was still trim, but there was a distinct softness that wrapped around all his well-toned muscles. Geralt reveled in this softness now, pressing his nose into flesh, scenting Emhyr again. Geralt couldn't keep himself from biting harder. He insisted on leaving marks where Emhyr would feel them all day. But here, they would still be hidden from even the nosiest of courtiers. He nipped at Emhyr's waist, enjoying the way it fit so perfectly into his hands and the hard planes of Emhyr's hips were as tantalizing as ever. 

Emhyr groaned as Geralt made a point of avoiding his cock and digging his thumbs into the hollow of Emhyr's hip bones. He pinned him to the bed with his strength. Geralt mouthed at his inner thighs, teasing Emhyr with bites and soft marks. But always laving his tongue over them to soothe the worried skin. It was impossible now to miss the smell of arousal. Emhyr's cock hanging heavy and dripping precum onto his belly. Geralt's mouth started to water, finally getting what he'd been dreaming about for weeks. A particularly desperate whimper escaped Emhyr's throat and Geralt finally indulged him, licking a long stripe from base to tip. He smiled as he halted the little buck of Emhyr's hips. Emhyr was so sensitive already.

Geralt had hoped to tease him a little longer, but he couldn't wait another damn minute. He shifted himself farther up the bed and eased Emhyr's legs up over his shoulders before locking eyes with him. To anyone else, Emhyr would've looked stern. Geralt could see the subtle quirk in his brow and the tightness of his mouth. Emhyr was barely holding onto his carefully cultivated control. Geralt couldn't help the wolfish grin that broke out as he delighted in how much he was affecting his beloved. He turned his head and pressed a final kiss to his inner thigh. No one else owned Emhyr like this. 

Emhyr's hands shot to Geralt's hair as he finally wrapped his lips around the tip of his cock. That wasn't near enough, Geralt would have Emhyr begging soon. Geralt sunk down in one fluid motion, feeling the tip of Emhyr's cock bumping against the back of his throat. The smell of arousal was unavoidable with his nose buried in Emhyr's dark curls and Geralt couldn't help the groan that tore from his throat. He could dream and dream, but nothing beat the real feelings. Emhyr pulling his hair, Emhyr's heels digging into his back, the bulk of Emhyr's cock on his tongue.

Geralt pulled back up and nearly off Emhyr's cock, swirling his tongue around the tip. He huffed a laugh at the desperate keening sound that Emhyr made. Geralt just might give up traveling to be able to hear that sound on a daily basis. He looked up and let Emhyr's cock pop free as Emhyr spoke, voice rough from sleep and sex, "Stop laughing and start serving Witcher."

Instead, Geralt pulled back and nuzzled his cock mumbling, "Yes dear," with mirth in his voice. At this continued insolence, Emhyr pulled his hair particularly hard. Geralt laughed aloud and crawled back up their bed as needy arousal shot through his own nerves. He growled, "You know how much I love that." before claiming Emhyr's mouth again. While Emhyr was distracted, he ground his hips down, hissing at the electric contact just to keep a needy moan from escaping. Emhyr was still so reserved too, eyebrows pinching and his mouth silently falling open with his breath leaving him all at once. Geralt rolled his hips a few more times, aching for touch as he reached up to the bedside table. He managed to knock it over before scrambling to grab the glass vial of oil before it rolled onto the ground. When he looked back, Emhyr was smirking at his clumsiness. He wanted to be irritated but he couldn't help how the expression pooled even more fire in his belly. First, Geralt tossed the oil safely to the foot of the bed. Then he shifted himself back down, pulling Emhyr back into position and digging his fingers back into his hips, even harder than before. He was rewarded with another ragged gasp and he couldn't help one last smile before he swallowed Emhyr's cock down to the root. 

Geralt gave a little ground and started to bob his head. Not near enough to satisfy, but enough to start drawing all those wonderful noises from Emhyr. Geralt knew how precious this was. How Emhyr hated being so out of control and how each whimper was an earned victory. He let go of Emhyr's hips, fingers soothing the skin that would surely be bruised in the next few hours. He ran one hand down, brushing along Emhyr's thigh, and the other up, along Emhyr's stomach. Emhyr could try to tamp down the sounds he made but he couldn't hide the way his muscles jumped and trembled beneath Geralt's fingers. 

Geralt reached for his head and untangled one of Emhyr's hands from his hair before tucking it into his own. He laced their fingers together and pinned it to the bed, loving the way that Emhyr couldn't help but grip too tight. He relented again, relaxing his throat and taking Emhyr as deep as possible. Tears began to prick at the edge of his eyes but he kept moving, sealing his lips around Emhyr's cock and sucking. Emhyr bucked up, without Geralt holding him down, Emhyr could never help himself. Even if Emhyr buttoned-up every other aspect of his life, he couldn't resist this better than any man could. Especially now that Geralt knew everything he liked.

Geralt put that knowledge to work, bobbing his head faster and running his tongue along the underside. He reached for the vial and uncorked it with one hand spilling most onto his fingers and the rest onto Emhyr. Job done well enough, he reached down and slid his finger against Emhyr's entrance, keeping his pace despite the way Emhyr's jumped at the contact. Geralt pulled up, settling his lips around the head of Emhyr's cock laving his tounge around the tip and he slid one finger in with only the barest of resistance. Emhyr was only this relaxed when he had readied himself before sex and Geralt pushed his head back down groaned in appreciation. He soon slid a second finger in and he pushed up, not needing to search for the sensitive spot. He circled it slowly, fingers working in and out to draw a gorgeous moan from Emhyr. 

Geralt looked back up, humming with pleasure at how wrecked Emhyr looked. Emhyr nearly winced at the stimulation and begged, "Please Geralt." Finally hearing what he wanted, Geralt worked at the tip for just a little longer. He then pressed up harder, thrusting to brush faster against Emhyr's nerves. He sunk back down and finally swallowed around Emhyr's cock, at once feeling Emhyr come in his mouth with a shout.

Geralt swallowed again and pulled out. He moved his way back up the bed between Emhyr's legs and propped himself up so that he could kiss him. Emhyr had only tried to deny him this once before but apparently he had come to like the taste of himself in Geralt's mouth. Geralt was painfully hard after that performance, but he couldn't help but gather Emhyr into his arms again, tipping his head down to place another kiss on Emhyr's forehead. And then Emhyr whispered, "Welcome home," into the crook Geralt's neck and his heart soared.


End file.
